


Parthenos, in Theory

by SullustanGin



Series: The Parthenos Triptych [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DC Animated Universe (Timmverse), Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons), Justice League - All Media Types, Wonder Woman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Developing Relationship, F/M, Pining, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Relationship Discussions, Trope Subversion/Inversion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:21:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25865827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SullustanGin/pseuds/SullustanGin
Summary: After a tabloid wreaks havoc on one Justice League relationship, Diana seeks out Bruce to help with several delicate matters.He doesn't expect her to come forewarned and forearmed with her head instead of her heart.
Relationships: Diana (Wonder Woman)/Bruce Wayne, mention of Clark Kent/Lois Lane
Series: The Parthenos Triptych [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1876924
Comments: 22
Kudos: 170





	Parthenos, in Theory

**Author's Note:**

> This originally was going to be tropebuster smut fic, but I got derailed by plot. This will be a three-part series.

Bruce silently stared at the tabloid dropped on his computer console in the Batcave, the words coming out of his teammate’s mouth simply not registering at the time. 

In garish, capitalized red letters, the front page screamed, “Superbaby on the horizon? Justice League rocked by intergalactic romance.” Bruce recognized the still from their recent dust up in Africa. Clark had been stunned – actually stunned – by a well-timed EMP combined with the after-effects of kryptonite exposure. Lacking any backup, Diana had single-handedly slung Clark over her shoulder and evacuated him out. 

The still captured a moment where Superman’s head had lolled on Wonder Woman’s shoulder as if going for a sensual kiss to the neck, eyes closed (he was unconscious). Her one visible hand was grasping his thigh, and her teeth were grit, seemingly in in passion (Clark was dead weight, and she struggled for the leverage in the panicked moments after combat). 

“This is horrible.” Bruce finally looked up at the courier, the now-distraught Themysciran princess. She was still in uniform, her presence lighting up the cave with color.

“Clearly an affront to your honor,” he stated neutrally, watching her carefully.

Diana frowned. “It’s not –” she hesitated. “I suppose it is.”

Interesting. It wasn’t her first thought or concern. 

Diana rubbed her wrists absentmindedly, shifting her wrist cuffs. “It’s not true, Bruce. I haven’t done anything with Clark. I haven’t ---” Her blue eyes darted up to his, only briefly insecure. “I haven’t done anything at all.” Her shoulders straightened up in pride.

Diana was endowed by Athena, the virgin goddess of war. There was no reason to be ashamed. Despite the pressures of Man’s World, Diana had held true to how she had been raised. Bruce could admire that, albeit tacitly. 

“Then don’t let it bother you. You’ve seen what they’ve written about me, about Hawkgirl – the list goes on.” Bruce turned to drop the paper in the trash bin nearby, keen to get back to work.

Diana intercepted the drop, standing before him and gripping the other side of the tabloid as he was about to release it. “They’re jackals. How can they write this sort of thing?” Diana’s eyes burned bright, angry.

“Freedom of the press, Princess. Welcome to America.” Bruce tugged at the paper again, but Diana held fast. “What?”

Her elegant jaw clenched. “It’s wrong. To write these things without any regard for the people involved. It hurts them.” The newspaper crinkled as Diana’s grip tightened on it. 

Bruce didn’t say anything. He simply glared at her, demanding an explanation for why she was intruding upon him. This was something that could have been discussed in the Watchtower or through secured email. The purpose of this meeting was not obvious.

Diana’s angry frown became profoundly sad, enough that Bruce released his grip on the paper entirely, letting her pull in toward her chest, slowly crumpling it into a ball as she started to pace on the platform that held the Batcomputer. “Lois saw it.” 

Bruce turned to watch her, leaning forward to catch her words; she was so quiet now. 

“She told Clark she wanted a break. Because of the tabloids. Because of me.” Now that ball of newspaper was held to her chest as if it were a great weight, something she carried around.

“Diana, none of this is your fault. Or your problem, honestly. Lois has always had a hot temper,” Bruce insisted, turning his chair to follow her with his eyes. “It will blow over by the weekend.”

Diana shook her head, the newspaper ball compacted even tighter.

Bruce tilted his head slightly to try to get a glance at her face as she started to turn away. Something had shaken her up, beyond the tabloid. “Lois called you, didn’t she.” Another nod, and Bruce had to get up. 

Lois’s wrath was superpower unto itself and known to the League; she could bring grown men to tears with her words alone. Bruce supposed it came from the brutally efficient and elegant dressing downs her father issued to the enlisted under him: never vulgar, never unprofessional, and never abusive, but it struck at their deepest insecurities. Lois was also recipient of such disciplinary action when she was a child, and she had learned to dole out as much as she received. 

The blowups between Lois Lane and General Lane during the holidays were legendary; Clark ended up showing up on Bruce’s doorstop one New Year’s Eve over a forgotten fruit salad (the actual transgressor was never formally identified). Clark was smart enough to get out of the crossfire.

As Bruce crossed the Batcave toward her, Diana stopped her aimless walk, waiting for him. She’d never run from him. He couldn’t say the same. Bruce leaned back against one of computer consoles in the laboratory section of the cave, his suit jacket riding up slightly as he crossed his arms. 

Diana sighed and looked at him with honest eyes. “You really don’t want to know what she said.” His gaze only intensified. “You won’t like it either.”

“And yet you came here anyway. Wally could make you laugh, Shayera could buy you a drink, J’onn could give you a statistical analysis of how few people have actually read these things and probably an intricate breakdown of the ups and downs of Clark and Lois, and John could pass a message to Clark as needed without setting Lois off,” Bruce stated in a cool, measured tone.

Diana shrugged. “You can do all those things, too. I know, the laugh would be asking a lot.” She gave him a weak smile. 

Bruce allowed himself to return it before cutting to the heart of the matter. “Why are you here?”

Diana wasn’t scared. She was not lying. Bruce could read her like a book – no guile, no deception. She was desperate to find the right words. He waited.

Finally, she spoke. “I--- Wonder Woman needs to not be alone. I… don’t want to have her image be that of a homewrecker. She can’t be around Superman.” 

Bruce could hear the diplomat in her voice, the words so carefully chosen to convey what she _needed_ to say, what _needed_ to be done, but not everything she wanted to negotiate for. The cool dread rose up inside him. Diana would never give that hope up entirely, would she. 

For now, however, he played the game straight. “We can rearrange duty rosters. Shame though, since you two work well together.” Bruce mentally added that she was the only person that could probably take out Clark if he went rogue, minus himself (of course). “As far as not alone – I assume you need romantic front? Public relations and all that?”

Diana raised and lowered her chin once. 

Bruce continued, watching her carefully. “You don’t have the same secret identity concerns as most of us do. You could easily pick a member of the public.”

Diana pursed her lips before replying. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I’m…. difficult.” Again, the diplomacy in the voice pointed at some other problem. And why was Diana concerned about being ‘difficult’, suddenly?

“You’re an Amazonian princess who never had to tolerate enforced gender roles in a society and has no limit as to what she can do,” Bruce replied. “That’s not difficult.” That seemed to offer no comfort. “There are open-minded men and women out there, Diana. You don’t have to compromise who you are or conform to some wrong-headed ideal.”

She barely nodded. “I prefer men,” she said quietly. “But they – normal men --- may find me hard to handle.” 

“A guy like Steve Trevor found you hard to handle?” Bruce asked, raising an eyebrow.

Diana let out a brief laugh, dismissing the idea. “Guys like Steve Trevor are almost 90 or exceedingly rare. When I was with him, there was a war on – there wasn’t time.”

Bruce, being a man, knew damn well that there was always time if one was determined enough. But apparently, Steve had been a complete gentleman. “There are billions of men out there Diana.”

Diana looked disquieted, and she smooshed the newspaper to the point Bruce thought it would revert to pulp. She finally took her shot with it, and he watched the wad arch through the air and neatly land in the wastebasket. 

Bruce decided to change tactics. Maybe making her choose from a pool of billions was too much of a crap shoot, even if it was only for show. “Leaguer would be obvious. You’d have to trust them though.” Bruce cleared his throat. Diana looked over at him. “You would have to publicly demonstrate affection for them to convince the press. Photos, gossip, and so on. And then work with them.” 

Diana pursed her lips before replying. “Yes. That may be difficult, if I don’t have that sort of trust with them.” She let out a humorless laugh. “Clark would be perfect, if the circumstances weren’t what they are.” Diana considered that for a second, and then made a face that nearly cause Bruce to guffaw. “It would be like kissing one of my sisters. Or brother, as it were.”

Bruce sighed. “Well, who else do you trust?” He already hated to hear the answer. 

Diana sat down on one of the lab tables just out of Bruce’s reach. “The founders, mainly. But I would make Clark’s problem their problem. John is with Shayera, and Wally is with Linda. J’onn is _married_ which would only make it worse.” 

Bruce uncrossed is arms. “J’onn is a shapeshifter. He doesn’t have to –”

“Yes, a great cover for a serial adulterer.” Bruce blinked. Diana mirthlessly smiled. “That was a cover story three months ago when J’onn was supposedly having an affair with Supergirl under her cousin Superman’s nose, her unfaithfulness to Brainiac reflecting her ‘misspent youth’ as a teen hero.”

Bruce shook his head. Kara was a sweet kid. J’onn was a stoic green wall, unless he was at home with his wife. Or having an intimate encounter with a package of Oreos. 

That left him. And no, she was not getting him.

Bruce stood in front of her perch on the lab table. “Diana, you could just let this lie. Ignore the story. Continue your work as ambassador and as Wonder Woman. Let Lois have her blow up and not do _anything_ differently.” Bruce cast a look over at the wastepaper basket and pointed at it as his gaze returned to her. “As someone in the business – the _Planet_ being far more reputable and reliable -- don’t you think she’d see right through you conveniently getting a boyfriend? Making sure it was public and caught on every device and camera possible? It would look like a dodge to her, which would probably only confirm her suspicions.” 

Diana apparently hadn’t considered how obvious and clumsy her plan was. Her blue eyes opened wide, a puff of air exiting her mouth. “Then what can I do to fix this?” She looked up at him, stricken.

“Let it pass,” Bruce firmly insisted.

“It _won’t_ ,” Diana retorted, too quickly. “I don’t want to be with Clark, ever. And she won’t stop —” 

Diana’s chin quiver caught Bruce completely off-guard. And then ---

Oh, God, he made her cry. Bruce became sure of his place in hell and of Alfred’s eternal disapproval. He had no clue _how_ he had done it. The situation was what it was: Lois was having a jealous tantrum over a tabloid headline, and Diana and Clark were on the undeserving receiving end. Bruce was simply talking it over logically with her, seeking a solution – there was no easy or obvious one that wouldn’t make things worse. So he recommended she let it go and ignore it.

That was apparently not going to happen; just like so many other things, Diana wanted to confront it, head-on. 

Now she was weeping over it on his lab table, shoulders silently hitching up and down. Bruce couldn’t stand it. Despite his better judgment, he stepped forward. Diana leaned forward, her forehead to his shoulder. Her hands went to his jacket, and he wordlessly wrapped his arms around her in a hug.

Lois must have really laid into her.

“ _You really don’t want to know what she said. You won’t like it either.”_

He probably wouldn’t like it, but he most definitely wanted to know now. Bruce had every right to know why an Amazonian princess was literally crying on his shoulder. The endless wash of complicated emotions surrounded him, especially as he had the rare joy of holding her. 

And yes, joy was one of those emotions, no matter how deep he tried to bury it. The desire to bend and comfort her was another. Fierce protectiveness, the urge to go to Metropolis and go yell at Lois (for as little good as that would do), the foreboding sense of ‘this will not end well’, the fear (yes, the fear) that his shadows would steal her light from her and leave her a husk – yes, Bruce felt all of those things. 

For now, however, his insatiable curiosity clawed its way to the top. “You’re ruining my sport jacket. Or, Lois is.” That made her sniffle and briefly chuckle. “Tell me.’

Diana shook her head against his shoulder. “It’s personal. And a sensitive matter. She shouldn’t have mentioned it.” 

Bruce squinted at some indeterminate point over her head. “That sounds more like a Lois and Clark matter than anything pertaining to you.”

“It is,” Diana truthfully replied, muffled by the hard press of her face into his chest and shoulder. “But… it’s something that could be true for me as well. Or not. I don’t know.” 

Bruce wasn’t the World’s Greatest Detective just for the cute title. “Why does Lois think Clark is going – or would go – to you?”

Again, Diana shook her head against his shoulder. She pulled on his jacket to get him closer, then slid her arms under the jacket to return his embrace. 

Bruce allowed it, but the conversation was required to continue. “Diana, you can’t sit in my lab all day and sob over something you won’t explain to me. I have work to do. You have work to do.” 

She sighed. “I should not know this information.”

“Lois told you because she knew it would dig at you,” Bruce told her. “Brutal honesty is Lois’ shield against the world.” 

The Amazonian’s shoulders sank slightly. “I have your discretion?”

“Of course.”

Diana finally drew herself up and away from him to collect herself. Bruce stepped back to grab at a box of tissues and passed them over to her. She murmured her thanks as she reassembled her composure. Bruce grabbed a clean glass beaker from a nearby shelf, rinsed it a few times, and then offered her a glass of water, which was also gratefully accepted.

He stood back and watched her, hands in his pockets. Diana’s tears had rattled him. She was quick to anger, not quick to cry or cower. She rose to her feet, ready for the next battle: disclosure of secrets. 

“When Lois called, I told her I had not seen the tabloid – I do not care for such things. I told her to ask Clark for his side of the story—he would support my assertion that it was all lies.” Diana gestured to an invisible Clark with her hand. “He did. He had already done so when they both saw the headline. When they had their fight. Then Lois told me to have the decency to wait until she was dead.” Diana stopped abruptly, as if still surprised by Lois’ words. 

Bruce wasn’t exactly expecting that twist either. He shifted his weight and waited for her to continue.

“Then I could have him. But as long as she lived, she would take anything he would give her. Even if it was nothing at all. There are so few people in the galaxy like us – like Clark and me, she said. Loneliness was inevitable. She said that she felt bad for me. I would always have to worry about hurting the ones I … loved.” 

Lois hadn’t meant ‘loved’ in the emotional sense. There was an edge to that word. 

Bruce’s mind pieced the puzzle together. “I … had never thought of it.” Sorrow started to cross of Diana’s face.

No, Lois was never unprofessional, vulgar, or abusive. She knew how to get under a person’s skin, however. 

Bruce suddenly flinched.

_Man of steel, woman of tissue._

Bruce felt as if he had eaten something far too sour. “Yes or no answers only. She thinks Clark either is sleeping with you or would sleep with you?”

“Yes.”

“That’s because Clark is scared of hurting non-super powered or non-meta humans.”

“Yes.”

“Especially her.”

“Yes.” Then Diana quietly added. “She thinks all men have needs, and -- .”

“Since it’s not her –” Bruce shoved the heels of his palms into his eyes and rubbed. “That noble bonehead.” He heard Diana splutter and then giggle, despite her own embarrassment and low mood. He sighed, eyes still covered. “After years of being together and six months of living together? Clark, you moron.” Bruce lowered his hands and turned toward Diana. “Princess, this is a Clark issue. You have nothing to do with his bull-headedness.” 

He stopped as her expression registered in his brain. Sad, sorrowful – why – oh. _Oh_. 

“Diana, I don’t think Clark’s fears are founded. If you took someone to bed, I don’t think you’d hurt them.” 

“You don’t think, or you don’t know,” came the quiet answer. She was strong enough to meet his gaze. “I admit, I never thought of it before she mentioned it. I just thought I— ” The words came slowly, haltingly. “would – could – do things like other women. Whenever I was ready. But maybe not. I don’t want to hurt ---” Diana scowled. “I don’t want to end up with someone like Clark by default to scratch an itch. I want to have a choice….” Her expression softened, and she was vulnerable. “I want to be in love.”

Diana’s plaintive statement struck some deep chord in him. She had a habit of doing that – saying simple things that resonated, mostly because those simple things were never so simple to attain. They should be, but in this world, for people like them, they were not. 

For people like her, that seemed particularly unjust, in Bruce’s opinion. 

At the same time, he was fully cognizant of who she was in love with. She had come to him with this. She trusted him. Bruce steadied himself internally before speaking. “Diana, no one is stopping you from being in love and finding someone.”

Diana gave him a pointed skeptical look. “No one?”

Bruce took a full step backwards. “We’ve been through this before.”

Diana huffed and counted off on her fingers, 1, 2, 3. “Dating affects the team, we both have issues, and bad guys will hurt me to get to you. I know. As to the first one, I’m not even dating someone _now_ , and it’s causing trouble on the team, to the point we have to rearrange rosters and possibly concoct some fake boyfriend for me. So how could me actually being with _you_ be worse? At least I wouldn’t be wrecking Clark’s home life.” 

Bruce glared at her. “You aren’t now. Lois is doing it herself.” 

Diana sighed and crossed her arms, straightening up. “Bruce, I trust you. You wouldn’t lie to me. You wouldn’t let me hurt you.” 

The newly instilled anxiety was hurting her. The reason for her visit to the cave crystallized. Bruce’s stomach dropped through the floor. He was equal parts flattered, relieved, shocked, depressed ---

Flattered it was him she came to; Diana always was special. Relieved it was him; at least then he knew she was in good hands. Shocked that she would reach such a conclusion and think he’d go for it. Depressed that he would have to reject her.

There was one final emotion left in that reaction. Bruce dare not name it. Even with no name, it was conquering and overpowering all of the other feelings.

He tried to strangle it before it grew. “Have you even thought about the consequences of getting involved with someone? You wear the armor of Athena, a virgin goddess. Are you willing to give up that armor and all the powers that go with it for the sake of a man, whether or not it’s me?”

He regretted the words as they came out of his mouth; Bruce just wanted Diana to find someone that _was not him_ , not lose hope entirely. 

Diana disapproved of his words. She spoke to him, as if she were speaking to an ignorant school child. “One must be Parthenos to be Athena’s avatar. ‘Virgin’ is not a perfect translation of ‘Parthenos.’” She cleared her throat. “Parthenos is the _appearance_ of being unmarried, physically pure, and morally beyond reproach. If one has had sex but has concealed the act and the lover from the knowledge of the public, she is still Parthenos.” 

The gears whirred in Bruce’s head. “And that’s why you can never be with Clark. The rumors would be proven true.”

Diana nodded. “Public awareness of impurity, even if the rumors were untrue previously. One’s reputation matters more than the technical qualifiers to wear Athena’s armor.”

A thought occurred to Bruce. “Do you want to sue the publication for libel? I have a legal team; they spend a lot of time strategically defending Bruce Wayne’s awful reputation.”

Diana raised her brows at him. “You purposefully let some stories out? And they are the milder ones?”

Bruce offered a smirk but no words.

Diana’s lips quirked, as if she wasn’t sure if she should smirk back or frown. “Would it not look strange for your legal team – a playboy’s legal team – to defend the purity of an unassociated woman? Or a theoretically unassociated woman.” She hastily added, “Minus a dance in Paris.” She stopped. “No, do not set them on a case.” Her blue eyes glinted at him, sharp. 

She’d caught him. 

Bruce Wayne’s legal team defending the honor of a virgin would immediately set the tabloids on red alert. They would start to speculate about what _their_ relationship was. And then there would be an inevitable story about _them_.

And then Diana couldn’t be with him without losing her status of Parthenos.

That would be a very neat way for Bruce to get out of this situation and extinguish her feelings at the same time. She’d be furious with him for making it impossible for them –

Unless she did a _very_ foolish thing. Which she might. Because Diana was ruled by her heart, not always by her head. 

Bruce didn’t want her to ruin her life because he backed her into a corner or slammed the door too hard. She’d break through the wall without a second thought – until the consequences came down on her.

“Fine, no legal action,” Bruce ceded the ground. Diana was too quick and clever for that. 

The woman uncrossed her arms. “As to your third concern – again,” she added, “the relationship would be clandestine to the public. No less secret than your identity, known to only those in deep trust.”

Bruce didn’t like that. “Diana, you deserve someone who could publicly acknowledge you –”

She shook her head quickly, her hair and earrings whipping back and forth with the effort. “I could only have an unconsummated relationship in public as Parthenos. Or maintain the illusion that the relationship is unconsummated. Given the viciousness of your press, the former would be easier than the latter.” She took a quick breath. “I don’t want to be limited to that.” 

Bruce’s frown endured.

Diana dared to take a step toward him. “If it helps, I did not exactly dream of a wedding day as an Amazonian. I had no expectations of a male lover or husband. I did not anticipate motherhood unless I made my own child out of clay and the gods gave it life as a sign of favor.” She opened her hands to him. “I do not have the same expectations of most earth women. I do not need public acclaim or traditional social achievements. Any arrangement wouldn’t offend my sensibilities.”

“It might offend mine.” The words escaped him before he could stop them, and he was caught, dead to rights. “You deserve more –”

“I want only you.” And there she was. Diana, pure of heart, wanting only one simple thing. Him. His love.

“How do you think this is going to end, Diana?” Bruce asked her, the feeling of entrapment oozing through his body. “You’ve lived thousands of years. You’ll live a thousand more. If we do this, I’ll break your heart. Guaranteed. I will die one day.”

“But not for fifty, sixty years,” Diana pleaded. “When you and John –”

“I don’t _want_ that future Diana,” he interrupted her, his brain flashing back to his older self and the dystopia he lived in. “I’d do anything to avoid it. And maybe that means I don’t make it that far. Maybe I don’t live so long. Someone else lives a better life because I sacrifice myself. I don’t know.” He gestured with open hands. 

Diana took a step toward him in slow pursuit. “And you don’t think I’d mourn you right now if you were shot by a mugger? If you died saving someone? Me? If you finally gave yourself a heart attack from too much work and not enough sleep?” Diana’s hands clenched into fists that she didn’t intend to use. “Bruce, you know I love you, and it’s nothing new.”

“You think you’re in love with me,” Bruce wearily corrected her, knowing he actually had not corrected her at all. “You’re infatuated with me. I was the first unpowered, mortal man you ever saw, and I looked like a creature from the underworld. I am everything you weren’t allowed to have on Themyscira.”

Diana drew herself up to her full height to look Bruce squarely in the eye. “Infatuation does not endure. It’s been almost four years. What I feel is real.”

“You think it is real –”

Diana strode forward and poked him hard in the chest. “Don’t speak to me as if I’m a child. I’ve lived thousands of years, and yes, I’ve had feelings that have dissipated or changed over those years. This isn’t one of them.” She jabbed him once more for emphasis. “And I’m not just in love. It’s already too late for that argument of breaking my heart, Bruce.”

He knew she was right. It both warmed his heart and sent ice down his spine. “I am mortal. There will be other men after me.”

Diana looked indignant and was about to say something before Bruce plowed onward. 

“Don’t waste your time, Princess. You know I’m difficult to work with. Imagine being subjected to me in your off-time. Alfred can tell you how awful I can be. How ungrateful. How moody.” Bruce winced, but he had to sacrifice ugly truth to save her from him. “There’s an entire month in the year that I am an abject monster. I send my wards to stay with their friends while Bruce Wayne goes to some New Age spa in Kathmandu or some far-flung location.” 

Two pairs of blue eyes locked. “Batman, meanwhile, draws ever closer to the line of deliberately killing someone during that month. The injuries suffered by criminals that month grow more numerous, more serious every year.” 

Diana never wavered. “The boys come home. Alfred still hasn’t given up on you. Bruce Wayne still gives a record-breaking amount of charitable gifts every year, helping countless people. You’re still a good man. An honorable man, despite the illusions you need to hold up to be the playboy and the terror in the night.”

Bruce was equally resolute. “You don’t need to put up with that. There are billions of men out there that don’t have the baggage I do.”

Diana just looked at him. “But they’re not you,” she replied simply. She sounded so matter-of-fact, as if Bruce had missed the obvious. 

Exasperated, Bruce started to stalk back toward the Batcomputer to complete the analysis she had interrupted. “Don’t waste your time,” he repeated to her. 

“But didn’t you say you’d break my heart? Because you’d die, eventually. How long could that possibly take? Fifty years?” Diana’s resilient voice piped up from behind him. “What’s fifty years to someone who lives for millennia?”

Bruce turned around so quickly he nearly tweaked his bad knee. There Diana of Themyscira stood, as if she had Nike perched upon her shoulder, jubilant at her victory. He likely wore a stunned expression – she still could surprise him. 

She advanced on him, like the huntress she was named for. “There will be other men after you – perhaps. But how can I go to them willingly with a free conscience unless I know they’re safe with me?”

“Before Lois, you never even –”

She cut him off. “I considered loving you, but I did not fully consider the consequences. Not even all of the consequences.” She swallowed. “We have issues. We won’t magically fix them. I believe we should try. If you trust me. And I can deal with consequences, even if it takes me a few hundred years.”

Diana finally understood what Bruce always had worried about and even some new things he had not. She had grown --

Bruce felt the smile crawl uncontrollably over his face. He started to laugh, low and throaty. “I always seem to forget. Athena was the virgin goddess of war. But she was also the goddess of wisdom. That can only grow with experience.” His laughter stopped with the statement.

Diana had outwitted him. She had long reached this conclusion before transporting down here, plotted out her arguments, anticipated how he would direct the conversation, and accurately predicted his tactics and objectives and feelings.

Those feelings were long-standing; she had been that perceptive. However, Bruce had determined he would only pursue Diana when it no longer felt predatory, when she knew life would have to go on after him, when she knew he was not perfect.

When she knew there would always be consequences for what they did. Maybe he had underestimated or overestimated them himself, but Bruce had always known there would be some consequence to ravishing the gods’ beloved one.

Now he knew: he could never walk with her in daylight. Their love would be one more thing consigned to the life of shadows in Wayne Manor. 

Their love. Ha. He was far gone, wasn’t he. 

Diana appeared next to Bruce, interrupting the flood of thoughts. “Bruce?” She asked many questions with one word.

“Yes.” He turned to face her. “Not everything. Not tonight. But –”

“We can start,” Diana interrupted, eagerly.

He had to remember that everything would be new. Everything was exciting for her, even his simple ‘yes.’ He had to smile. “Yes.”

Then, for the first time, Bruce kissed Diana. She had kissed him, several times. Now he initiated it, belatedly thinking he probably needed a shave and tasted like stale coffee. She didn’t seem to mind as she wove her fingers through his hair, holding his lips to hers, as if she was worried he’d kiss and run.

That could have been a logical conclusion, if he wasn’t standing in his own Batcave. His hands wrapped around her waist and made her breath stutter as he drew her closer to him. Bruce took the opportunity to slide his tongue across the seam of her lips, gently coaxing entry. Strong, beautiful Diana melted into him. 

Fragmented memories of a night in a restaurant, adrenaline and lust roaring through both of them, spliced into this current experience. 

He drew upon the past to inform the present, and he heard his success: an involuntary cry from her throat, the first sound of desire. He had said not everything tonight - he didn’t want to push her too far. It had been awhile since that restaurant for him. Bruce gently ended the kiss, pulling gently on her lower lip before brushing a kiss across her cheek. “Sorry.”

Diana’s eyes were wide open and radiant, her voice breathless and thrilled. “Don’t be.”

Bruce ordered in Indian food.


End file.
